


Enthrallment for Beginners

by canis_m



Series: A Different Vintage [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Consensual Mind Control, Hannibal is somewhat less terrible as a vampire than as a human being, M/M, Ties & Cravats, Vampire Hannibal, Will is the crankiest DADA teacher, more or less
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 14:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8984254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canis_m/pseuds/canis_m
Summary: How to resist a vampire, or not.  A prequel of sorts to "Terroir."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reeby10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reeby10/gifts).



> Dear voldiebuns, I hope you'll pardon my use of an existing 'verse for your gift--since both AUs and the paranormal were on your "nice" list, I thought a bit of vampire Hannibal might not go amiss. Wishing you happy holidays and a scrumptious new year! :D

The murmurs subsided as Will stepped in front of the desk. All eyes in the lecture hall trained on him, and on the second figure at the front of the room. 

Will glanced up over the rims of his glasses. "As you know, our agenda for the evening is the 'glamour defense workshop' portion of the course. My--" he decided to forego the word _lovely_ "--assistant today will be Dr. Hannibal Lecter."

Dr. Lecter smiled at the class. He was sleek and cadaverous, well-heeled in his dark windowpane suit. He wore a livid pocket square and a paisley tie. His fangs were nowhere to be seen. 

The trainees stared. Some of them squirmed. The stares ranged from rapt to scared shitless. Faced with a real live--or at any rate not dead--vampire, the FBI's future finest looked like a herd of deer on a turnpike. A herd of deer with the high beams of an eighteen wheeler bearing down. Will adjusted his glasses. 

"Dr. Lecter is a practicing psychiatrist, a member of the Baltimore Area Common Ground Advisory, and a consultant for the BAU. He's been kind enough to join us today at Special Agent Crawford's request." 

The better listeners might catch the nuance: Jack's request, not Will's. But as little as Will liked having a vampire in the classroom, he couldn't deny the need. He schooled himself to glower no more than usual and continued.

"Later we'll be asking for volunteers to help with the demonstration. I want to emphasize that participation is not required. There will be no extra credit for being enthralled."

Nervous chuckles.

"But I promise not to bite," added Dr. Lecter. He had the voice to match the looks: resonant, smooth, with an accent that might've been Transylvanian for all Will knew. The sound of it roused shivers in the air. 

There were more unsteady chuckles. A few legs crossed and uncrossed. Dr. Lecter thanked Will for the introduction and stepped to the fore, facing the class.

"Glamour, as you know, is an induced state of heightened susceptibility to suggestion. As with hypnosis, susceptibility varies, but all humans are susceptible to some degree. The degree of ability to wield glamour also varies among vampires. Most can induce a brief state of docility or confusion. Some can exert strong and lasting influence on a subject's mind."

Will thumbed a button on the remote in his hand, dimming the lights. "When investigating or apprehending vampires, law enforcement agents are likely to become targets." He activated the overhead projector. Video footage from a convenience store security camera began to play on screen. "This was a routine traffic stop by Officer Casey of the Virginia State Police. Watch what happens when she engages with the driver."

A uniformed officer approached the door of a black SUV. The window rolled down. The face of the driver remained obscured. Officer Casey appeared to be listening. She nodded once, then ambled away from the SUV, toward the convenience store entrance. 

The SUV drove off. A moment later Casey sauntered back into view, munching a glazed doughnut.

Someone in the class snorted. Will paused the video and flicked on the lights. "Officer Casey had no memory of this incident after the fact. In another case, the glamoured officer was encouraged not to go get a doughnut, but to cross a busy expressway on foot. The injuries from the ensuing collision ended his career."

Silence from the class. Will set down the remote and glanced to Dr. Lecter. 

"A newly turned or poorly socialized vampire may use glamour unwittingly," Dr. Lecter said. "Others will wield it deliberately, without scruple. While the practice of keeping human thralls is of course illegal, in some unsavory quarters it continues."

One of the trainees put up a hand. "What if more than one vampire tries to enthrall the same person?" 

"A glamoured mind clings to the familiar," said Will. "It resists new attempts to enthrall."

"In most cases, yes," said Dr. Lecter. "But an existing glamour can be superseded by a more powerful one. There's little defense against the mind of a master."

"Which is why agents should avoid direct engagement with so-called 'master' vampires," said Will.

"Or have powerful friends," Dr. Lecter said. 

"Yeah, right," said Will, with a sidelong look. "Fortunately for us, most vampires aren't masters, and most glamours can be resisted. As we will now demonstrate with Dr. Lecter's help. Who wants to take a stab at resisting mind control?"

A young woman in the front row raised her hand.

"Ardelia," said Will. "Come on up."

Ardelia rose from her seat and came to stand in front of the desk, hands balled at her sides.

"How this will work is, Dr. Lecter will try to glamour you into doing a simple task. Your job is to not do it. Questions?"

"No, sir." 

"All right," said Will, "I'm going to walk you all through the basic technique. First, imagine a door. Think of it as the door to your mind. The door is locked. Picture a deadbolt, a steel bar, whatever you need to feel like nothing's going to get through. Remember, they can't enter your house without an invitation." He looked out over the rows of furrowed foreheads and closed eyes. "Does everybody have their door?"

Heads nodded. Ardelia nodded, too. 

"Hold that image in your mind, and whatever comes knocking, don't let it in." Will stepped aside. "Dr. Lecter?"

"Hello, Ardelia." Dr. Lecter offered a little smile. It made his face turn less corpselike. Ardelia stood like a steel baton, looking straight into his gleaming eyes. Right down the barrel, thought Will. 

"Thank you for agreeing to help us," Dr. Lecter said. "I have a very simple request. I'd like you to go behind the desk," he indicated, "and sit down in the chair. That's all." The tone of his voice slid from courteous to unctuous, gliding on the ear and into the listener's consciousness. Gooseflesh rose on Will's arms and the back of his neck, and he wasn't even the target. "It's quite simple, isn't it? I'd very much appreciate your help. Can I ask you to do that for me, Ardelia?"

Ardelia nodded. She took a step toward the desk. Then she blinked, frowning. She squinted back at Dr. Lecter.

"Perhaps it might seem like a foolish request," he said, "but it would be a great help to me. Would you please go and have a seat in the chair?"

Ardelia took another step before halting again. The color in her cheeks flared. She doubled over, puffing a whoosh of air, then straightened and squinched up her face. 

"Like hell I will, sir!"

Someone whooped. There was a smattering of applause. Tipping his head to Ardelia, Dr. Lecter smiled. "It seems my request is denied. Well done."

Will gestured Ardelia back to her seat. "Nice work," he told her. "Your door held up."

She looked askance over her shoulder at Dr. Lecter. "I think I need to change the locks."

Dr. Lecter showed nothing but pleasure at having been thwarted. "As you can see, the vigilant mind can resist. When a glamour sticks, it's often because the subject is caught unawares, or offers no resistance."

"That's not to downplay the danger, " said Will. "A vampire who wants to glamour you will do his best catch you off guard." 

A hand rose in the back of the room. "Could we see how it works without resistance?"

Will frowned. "You saw that in the video."

"But we couldn't hear it--there was no audio."

Raising his eyebrows, Dr. Lecter glanced at Will. "If we have a volunteer, why not?"

More hands popped up, enough that Will continued to frown at the enthusiasm. Learning to resist was one thing. Learning to submit was another. He ignored the barrage of hands and the twist in his gut. He took off his glasses to stuff them into his pocket. 

"I'll be your volunteer," he said.

Dr. Lecter tilted his head. He turned, conspiratorial, toward the audience. "I suspect Special Agent Graham has not only a bolted door, but a portcullis, battlements, and a moat."

There were stifled giggles. Will shot a look at the class, then turned back to Dr. Lecter. He rolled his shoulders and lifted his chin, resettling into some bastard version of parade rest. "All right. Do your worst."

Dr. Lecter regarded him for a moment. He took a half-step nearer, then another. "Will. May I call you Will? For the purposes of our demonstration."

"Fine," said Will. 

"The portcullis may be raised, but the door remains shut, I think. If I might offer a suggestion?"

"Go ahead."

"Take a deep breath. In, and out. And another, if you would. Good. Perhaps you might close your eyes, just for a moment. That's it. Now, another deep breath. In...and out. Very good."

"Is this glamour," muttered Will, "or hypnosis?" Either way, it had done its work; the clench of his innards had lessened. His voice seemed to sound from somewhere far away.

"At times I find it useful to blend the techniques," Dr. Lecter said. "You're free to open your eyes now, if you wish."

Will did. Dr. Lecter stood much closer than he'd been before, gazing down. Will looked up. A pool of calm spread around and within him. Its ripples moved like poured caramel, golden and slow. He felt no urge to retreat.

"You're doing very well," Dr. Lecter said. His voice had softened, gone velvety, as if they were conversing in an intimate space. "Are you ready to proceed?"

Just what they were proceeding with was no longer clear to Will, if it had ever been, but that didn't seem worth making a fuss about. Not when Dr. Lecter's eyes were the color of good bourbon, and deep enough to sink into. To sink or swim. 

Despite what he taught the trainees in their first exercise, Will didn't have a door, or even a frame to hang it on. No walls, no bars, no structure to breach. He had a stream. 

The old yarn that they couldn't cross running water was a myth, but it held power where myths did, in the realm of the mind. A door, any door, contained potential to open. Not just to be broken down. To be opened from inside.

In the midst of the stream Will felt the purl of the current, the strength in it, the force to inundate and sweep away. If need arose, he could call on it. He looked up and saw the dark figure on the bank, who stood watching the water, attentive--as if admiring the scene--without so much as dipping a toe past the brink. Waiting for Will to approach of his own accord.

Will waded nearer. The tension in his shoulders ebbed.

In the classroom he said, "Sure."

Dr. Lecter smiled. It was a private smile, one that seemed all the denser for being contained. Something flickered into being within Will, small and gratifying, like a struck match. 

"I confess, I've been admiring your jacket all evening. It suits you. The tie, I'm afraid, doesn't quite do it justice. Might I ask you to take it off?"

It was Will's purple tie, the one that made him side-eye himself in the mirror, if only briefly, every time he put it on. But it was part of a limited rotation. Will raised his hands to his collar, ducking his head. He undid the knot, then stopped. "I don't…I didn't bring another one." He hesitated again. An explanation seemed in order; he didn't really want to refuse. "I always wear a tie to class."

Someone tittered faintly in the distance. The tittering seemed supremely unimportant. The only essential thing was Dr. Lecter: his presence, his nearness, the sure unfurling of his voice. 

"Of course. I'd be happy to lend you mine. Could I ask you to help me with it?"

Will rolled his eyes. "Can't even take off your own fancy tie." But he stepped in. Their bodies were close together now. He touched the knot at Dr. Lecter's throat. It loosened at his careful fingering. Will gripped and pulled. For a second he thought reams of paisley might unravel and spill all over his palms, but that was just the smoothness of the silk. 

After that, uncertainty chafed him. He stood holding the tie between his hands. Dr. Lecter would know what came next, would tell him what to do. Will looked up, blinking the way he did when hazy with sleep.

The pleasure in Dr. Lecter's gaze soothed him. "Thank you, Will. Would you like to lend me yours, and put on that one instead?"

Nodding, Will drew off the purple tie and gave it to Dr. Lecter. He turned up the collar of his shirt and looped the paisley one around his neck. Dr. Lecter did likewise, watching him all the while. The mirroring of their motions struck Will as funny, somehow. More than funny--a strange delight. He gave a lopsided smile, and Dr. Lecter smiled back. Amusement eased the pale angles of his face, as if it had softened bone. Will regretted having thought of him as cadaverous. He didn't look like a corpse now.

When the paisley tie was tied, Will patted it down. "Am I good?" 

"Perfect." Dr. Lecter adjusted Will's tie at his own throat. "And mine?"

The tie was still cockeyed. Probably on purpose. Shaking his head, Will reached for it without being asked. Dr. Lecter held still as Will set it right and smoothed it flat. Not just still, but unbreathing; his chest didn't rise or fall under Will's hand. That might have begun to bother Will, if he let himself dwell on it much longer. Best not to dwell at all.

"That will do for a demonstration, I think," Dr. Lecter said. "Thank you, Will. You've been very good to oblige me. Would you close your eyes once more for me now?" Will obeyed. "Will Graham, I release you from thrall. Your mind is your own again."

Will's eyes flew open. The lights of the lecture hall glared down, suddenly stark. He fumbled for his glasses. He stared, baffled, at the knot of purple at Dr. Lecter's neck.

"Why are you wearing my tie?" he asked, then blinked at the burst of laughter from the class.

*

The workshop ran long. More than half the trainees wanted a turn at resisting Dr. Lecter, or failing to resist, as often as not. By the end they were all flushed and bright-eyed, with success or with resolve to build better doors. 

The Q&A that followed was meant to be about glamour, but devolved into an Ask Me Anything melee. Dr. Lecter bore it with good humor, and the indulgence of a being whose lifespan far exceeded that of anyone else in the room. Will wondered, desultorily, just how old he was. The trainees must have wondered too, but no one had the gall to ask.

The minefield of paisley strung from his own neck kept catching Will's eye. Each time it startled him, then irked him anew. He wanted it gone. Finally he issued last call for questions, and tried not to grind his jaw when the class took it into their heads to applaud.

When the last of the students had filed out, Dr. Lecter turned to Will. "It went well, I think. Don't you?"

By way of answer Will clawed a finger into the paisley tie and dragged it off. He held it out to Dr. Lecter at arm's length.

"Ah yes." Dr. Lecter accepted the tie. He removed Will's from around his neck and returned it with delicate care. 

Will took it by the narrow end, like a dead snake by the tail. The question twisted between his teeth before he could bite it back.

"What else did you make me do?"

Dr. Lecter blinked. "While you were glamoured? I asked you to do a breathing exercise. To take off your tie and exchange it with mine. Nothing untoward, I hope." A glint tilted into his eye. "There was an entire class of chaperones, if you care to ask them."

Balling the purple tie in his hands, Will went to shove it into his bag. "I don't remember any of it." He'd be less unnerved, maybe, if there were traces--if some discernible oily residue still clung to his mind. Evidence at the crime scene. But there was nothing. If he hadn't been told what had happened, he would've felt untouched.

Will had interviewed enough glamoured officers after the fact to know they rarely remembered much. It was still disquieting to find himself equally wiped. Not clean--he didn't feel clean--but blank.

"I'm not surprised," Dr. Lecter was saying. "You seemed well under. Your defenses are soundly built, but you've built them for a reason." 

"Because I'm _susceptible,"_ said Will. 

"To hypnosis, at least. In the end I used only a little glamour. Enough to ease the way. But none of it would've been possible without your cooperation. I suspect you'd be extremely difficult to enthrall against your will."

"Well, that's something," muttered Will. He shouldered his bag. As they left the room he swiped his palm over the light switch and let the doors swing shut behind. Dr. Lecter fell into step with him as they started down the hall.

"Besides that, you'd make a terrible thrall. Far too much back talk."

Will stole a glance at him sidelong. "Just how hard were you trying? With the trainees. Were you going all out?"

"It would hardly be appropriate if I had."

Will frowned. "You think it's more appropriate to instill a false sense of security? This isn't letting kids win at Monopoly. At some point their lives could be at stake." 

"When it comes to defending their minds, confidence will serve them better than self-doubt," Dr. Lecter said easily. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Would you like to try again? With your castle gates barred this time."

"That's your metaphor, not mine," said Will. "And no thanks."

"You're not curious what would happen?"

"Not curious enough."

Dr. Lecter's gaze on Will grew watchful and dark. "If I'd known the experience would disturb you, I'd have asked for a different volunteer."

"I wasn't—" Will broke off, and shut his trap before _about to let a vampire wind-whammy one of my students into God knows what_ could come seething out. "I wouldn't put a trainee in that position. I just hadn't been in it before."

"Never been glamoured?" Dr. Lecter's eyebrows rose. "In all your years of chasing rogue vampires?"

"Far as I know, anyway."

A ripple of fascination traversed Dr. Lecter's face. "How did it feel? To go under."

 _To go under me,_ he might as well have said. Will hunched and charged toward the exit to the parking lot, head shaking in curt jerks. 

Dr. Lecter reappeared at his side, with the sickening quickness that meant he'd used his true speed. Once there, he kept pace easily. His stride was hungry and long. "Will--"

Will shoved through the double doors. Lamps lit the walkway and the parking lot beyond, throwing shadows that blurred into the dark. The night air was pliant, far more comfortable than it had any right to be. Will halted abruptly, and had the petty satisfaction of watching Dr. Lecter nearly go sailing past.

The nearest lamppost blazed behind Will as he planted his heels. "You're here to help teach trainees how to keep your kind out of their heads," he said. "Not to get in mine."

If nothing else, Dr. Lecter made a better show of contrition than most vampires Will had met. "Of course. I beg your pardon."

"Just keep it professional."

Dr. Lecter bowed his head, then peered up at Will. "I hope my visit was of some benefit to your class."

"It was," said Will, extracting his car keys, "and we appreciate your time."

"'We.' The FBI. Not you."

Will didn't bother to arrange his face in a smile. "We'll see you back here in two weeks," he said. And God willing, not a minute before. He set off on a beeline for his car without saying good night.


End file.
